


Merry Wasteland Christams

by nicoleweber (celticvampriss)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Light Angst, Rated for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticvampriss/pseuds/nicoleweber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about that time of year, as best she can figure.  When snow should be falling over the holiday season.  But snow doesn't fall anymore.  The Sole Survivor remembers the holidays.  MacCready has some skewed info on what Christmas actually was way back then.  Some light angst.  A slight touch of humor.  And some wasteland peril.</p>
<p>(MacCready POV) Mac x F!SS</p>
<p>((sorry about the lame title))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Wasteland Christams

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for the FFWU December Holiday contest. For the sake of this let's just pretend that MacCready knows as much about Christmas as this world knows about baseball.
> 
> Rated for swearing.

It was freezing.  Bitter and acrid, the kind of cold that numbed your marrow and chilled your soul.  The sky was a cloudy, drab grey that, honestly, couldn't have been more fitting to the mood.  He could hear Lily banging away at her newly looted rifle.  He was keeping watch while she modded the crap out of it.  Throwing junk and scrap together to create something new had always been this weird, admittedly useful, talent for her.  It was like she couldn't accept what was left of her world at face value.  If there was a way to make it better, to pump new life into atrophied garbage, she would find it.

In that way, she flourished.  It was a rare talent and one he'd never take for granted again.

"Mac!"  He turned at her bark of command and hadn't a chance to get out a 'What's up?' before she was rushing him into digging through his pockets for that bottle of Wonderglue she'd told him to carry.  He passed it over and she went right back to her work, the rifle pulled apart and scrap parts littering the workbench.  She had a decent pile of wood going from those old world bats and when she finished she hoarded off some of the leather scrapped from leftover armor pieces and they headed back into the wasteland.

It was supposed to be a quick trip.  Just a jaunt off to provide back-up for one of the settlements.  MacCready liked to complain about the boredom coating Sanctuary, but the weather was shit and he'd have gladly stayed in the comfort until it turned.  And despite all his efforts, it was actually becoming home.  And it was such an elusive concept out here that he feared using it anywhere but in his own thoughts.  'Home' was hard to hold on to.  Most of the time it was easier to just keep moving, never settle down, and then you didn't have to suffer the loss when everything was inevitably gone.  He had been hesitant to ever find a home again.  Until a pretty, mouthy vault dweller waltzed into the Third Rail and paid him 200 caps for what he now believed was the best damn transaction of his life.

They continued on their route, guided by her Pip-Boy. MacCready was lost in his own musings with a rifle cradled against his chest and his gaze every so often dipping to catch the sway of her hips in that too-tight suit, when she suddenly fell into a crouch. 

He followed immediately, tensing up and readying his weapon.  She had a sense about these things and he trusted her judgement.  They crept along the outer edge of a few ruined houses, close enough that voices now carried along the frigid wind.

They moved in tandem.  Lily skirting the edges of bushes and the rusted metal frames of pre-war cars while he hung back and attempted to find a vantage point that would allow him to cover her.  If he worked fast enough, he might even have a chance to take out one or two before Lily swept in like the hand of death.  From the conversation of grunted words, stunted phrasing, and general condensation of the human race there were about four or so super mutants.

It was that elitist attitude that made Lily's preemptive head shot so much more satisfying.  That first shot stirred the rest into defense, but they had no idea where the attack had come from. 

Quiet.  Efficient.  Lethal.  Lily slithered amongst the brown and grey weeds like a ghost.

Another head shot.

MacCready almost forgot to provide cover, his gaze rooted on her lithe body as heads exploded and bodies disintegrated to smoking piles of powder in her wake.  Lily could handle this without him, anyway.  While she made quick work of the mutants, he watched her with his scope, conserving ammo and making sure nothing snuck up on her.

When the radscorpion shuffled its way through the top layer of loose dirt and rock, popping up into his scope so suddenly he jolted, it was in striking range behind her.  MacCready was already aimed and his shot distracted the irradiated monster, but didn't divert it.

His heart caught in his throat as their simple fight suddenly took a more lethal turn.  Worse was that, she was in the thick of it and he was still a good ways away.

MacCready kept shooting, he hadn't stopped until he had needed to reload.  It was enough to keep that wicked tail from diving for her chest and, finally, the radscorpion burrowed back into the earth.  But it wasn't gone.  Those things were nasty, almost as bad as ferals with their pop up out of nowhere attack patterns that were impossible to predict.  MacCready was already running, breaking cover so that he could get to her before it resurfaced.

He slid into cover beside Lily, reloading with his back to the car door.  "Radscorpion, boss.  Almost speared you, but I took care of it."  He slammed a fresh magazine into place with the heel of his hand.  "No need to thank me."

Her frosty grey eyes scanned the ground, then deadpanned back on him.  "Where's the body?"

"I didn't say I _killed_ it.  But I probably pissed it off so we should get out of here.  Preferably now."

She shook her head, almost unable to resist adding that last smart-mouthed retort he knew was waiting behind those pretty lips, except she didn't get the chance.  The radscorpion sprung from the ground, slashing and snapping with pincers and tail as they fired blindly into its general direction.  He was too busy backing up and trying not to be impaled to make sure his shots were on target.  Even together, they only managed to enrage it while it once again dove into the earth. 

Lily yanked on his jacket collar, hauling him to his feet with considerable strength for someone her size.  "Off the ground, come on."  She ran for the back of an old trailer truck, testing the latch.

"Watch my back.  I've got to pick this." 

MacCready set up behind her while she fished out a handful of bobby pins and started to work the lock.  He heard a few snaps, each tiny 'ping' of a broken pin falling beat time into his nerves as he waited.  He doubted he could do much good with a ranged weapon and a predator that preferred close up attacks, so he fished out the modded combat knife she'd stored on him earlier.  Just as back-up.

"Yes.  Got it."  She shoved the door up and open, hopping into the back.  She helped him up just as dirt and dust sprayed out in a cloud of really pissed off radscoprion that snapped at the heels of his boots as she none-too-gently threw him back and started shooting.  MacCready may have shrieked and it was really lame of her to be giggling about it once her barrage had fended off the beast.

"Now what?" He asked, as if she had gotten them into this mess.  Which, in a way, was sort of true.  Not that the sudden appearance of a radscorpion was her fault, but that it was her idea to go wandering around in the wasteland in the middle of the coldest day ever.

Their metal container shielded them from the wind, at least.  There was really no other option left but to wait it out.  If it didn't leave, they could pick it off from this vantage point.  But with night about to fall, it was better to just hole up and take a breather.  Lily eased the door back down and used the light on her Pip-Boy to check every corner of their shelter for loot.  She worked aside a stack of crates where two sleeping bags had been stowed.  Looked like they wouldn't freeze to death after all.

She tossed one to him, plopping down on the freezing metal.  He could feel the cold seep through his clothes, through the threadbare sleeping bag.  She still watched the door, listening and alert.  A few long minutes passed in silence.

They had moved past awkward quiet, too at ease in each other's presence, but as they sat in that trailer he couldn't help but watch the play of thoughts in her eyes, they way her head dipped just a fraction lower, her mouth shifting to frown, as if her thoughts were taking dark turns.  She'd been like this for days.  When she thought he wasn't looking and her smile would fall, her eyes would darken, she'd lose herself in some memory and forget to banter or snark at him.

He hated it.

"Hey," he started, not sure if _now_ was the time to broach this subject, but he was also not willing to let it continue without offering to help in whatever way he could.  Her attention flickered to him, her smile returning when their eyes met.  God, he would do anything for that smile.  "You know I'm here if you need me.  For any reason."

"Yeah, of course."

"I'm just saying.  If you want to, I don't know, share what's on your mind or vent or confide, punch something, whatever.  I'm not going anywhere."  He chucked, "Neither of us are going anywhere at the moment."

Her eyes drifted. "You've noticed."

"I may have noticed that something seemed to be on your mind.  Something that's making you unhappy.  Something that I'm more than willing to help you with if I can.  If you want me to."

She sighed, returning her attention to watching the door.  "There's not really anything to help with.  I'm just...remembering.  And I think that makes it harder.  Knowing how things used to be."  Her shoulders relaxed, "You know, today would be Christmas Eve.  Shaun's first Christmas Eve."

He did not know that.  He didn't know anything about Christmas aside from salvaged word-of-mouth tales that grew more outlandish and contrary depending on who was talking.  But he knew the longing that came with missing an important first with a child.

She shook her head suddenly, readjusting her rifle as if she could shake off whatever regrets were haunting her.  "There's nothing anyone can do about it now.  I can't go back.  This is reality now."

The low intensity of her voice chilled him.  A resigned determination not to linger on a past she could never go back to.  And he felt awful, the worst sort of lowlife in existence, because for a second he was actually grateful she was here.  He had to turn away.  It was such a powerful relief that filled him when he thought about the tragedy that had brought her to Goodneighbor, that brought them together.  God help him, he was grateful, relieved, and elated-and that was wrong on so many levels.

He didn't want to be happy about it, he didn't want to look at her so broken and devastated over her losses and feel _good_ about it, but he was.  He was so glad he met her.  Because he no longer wanted life without her in it.

He cleared his throat.  "So.  Christmas.  Did they really stuff bodies down fireplaces?  Because I'm not gonna lie, that sounds terrifying."

He was rewarded with a smile.  A barely, 'I don't want to' smile, but it was enough.

"No," she said, "Nothing like that.  It was a really happy time.  Gifts and good food.  It was a time for family.  Snow would soften all the harsh edges of the world and it was really hard not to feel good all the time, looking out frosted windows to a street of colored lights."

MacCready nodded along, doing his best to picture it.  "It doesn't really snow anymore."

"Yeah," she said. 

Then he felt like an ass for harping on the negative.  So he quickly leaned into her side, touching shoulders.  "What else?  I heard this one story that had flying deer that glowed, but not like radiation glow.  Was that much true?"

That smile grew a bit, warming that deep rooted cold he'd not been able to shake.  She nodded, "More or less, yeah."

"Okay, then.  I can get behind that.  Wouldn't mind the whole good food thing either."

"Are you hungry, Mac?"

"Only cause you mentioned."

Lily passed off the meager portions they had for food.  Mostly some wild fruit she'd meandered off course to pick on their way up here.  As they ate, she told him more about this holiday that was, apparently, not as horrific as the stories had him believe.  Presents under a tree.  Cookies.  Santa.  Didn't sound too bad the way she told it.  And the way the grey of her eyes sparkled with each new memory was proof enough for him.  He was leaning on his fist, elbow to knee, as she finished twisting the remains of a laundered rose dress into what she dubbed a "Santa Hat."

She held up her creation, frowning, "It's not very realistic.  But this was the basic shape.  Color was a bit more red than this."

He held out his hand and slipped it over his own hat, chuckling as it slipped right down to cover his face.  "Now, first things first.  Be honest.  How do I look?"

Lily's laughter was more than affirmation.  When she tried to take it back, he swatted her hand away.  "No way, I'm keeping this."

"It's not even a real hat."

"It's mine now, boss."

Eventually they took their shifts at sleeping, one always staying awake to keep watch, until the sun rose again.  Their radscorpion friend seemed to have found easier prey.  MacCready was just coaxing Lily awake when he felt a slight tremble in the metal flooring.  His eyes moved to the purified water she had left out and a tremor sent ripples skittering.

"Oh no." He shifted.  "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Lily was up now, feeling it too.  There were only so many things that could make the ground shake like this.  None of them were good.  It was probably a deathclaw.

MacCready lifted his gun.  "What was that saying you mentioned?  Merry Christmas?"

She glared.  "Yeah.  Merry Christmas.  Here's a deathclaw."

"Oh, come on, it only _might_ be a deathclaw."

A shrill, echoing, _screeeech_ filled their container as the entire truck shook and one side lifted from the ground.  A dented line traced along the right side, then the tires touched back down and they both nearly lost their balance. 

Okay, so it was definitely a deathclaw.

"Shit," Lily breathed, her eyes betraying the working brain of someone trying to figure out what the best option for a bad situation could possibly be.

"We can find a way," he said, then she turned to him suddenly and he smiled, "And if we don't, I'm still with you."  MacCready leaned close, nearly touching his forehead to hers.  "I'm still with you, boss.  I've got your back.  Always."

His words were followed by a roar and Lily got that gleam in her eyes that said she was about to be very reckless.

"Lock and load, Mac."

He nodded, ready to follow her lead anywhere.  "You're insane.  Let's do it."

She pulled out her big gun, the one they had precious ammo left for, and shared one final nod of encouragement with him.  And he was right there with her.  She threw the door open and they leapt out in a hail of gunfire and very strong curses.

Merry Christmas.


End file.
